


Waiting for a Sign

by getluckywithbucky



Series: Choices 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angel Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, M/M, Righteous Man!Castiel, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getluckywithbucky/pseuds/getluckywithbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel had thought that being chosen by angels to do God's work would be busy, active, and possibly dangerous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for a Sign

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really a full part of the Choices 'Verse. I mostly just wanted to write a bit of interaction between Jimmy and Castiel to sort of feel out the relationship in this 'verse before I devote more energy to it. This part does not have Dean in it, but the overall story does.

Castiel had thought that being chosen by angels to do God's work would be busy, active, and possibly dangerous. He had expected battles and quests, and he had expected confrontations with demons and the denizens of Hell. Castiel had prepared himself for collecting relics or helping the angel Dean in his duties.

What it was proving to be, however, was boring and a lot of waiting around. Castiel had spent the last week doing nothing but cleaning up after his brother, sister-in-law, and niece during the day and watching nature programs on the Discovery Channel. There had been a hunt a few miles away - a kelpie, of all things - but it had been short and sweet and not enough to really keep the newly resurrected hunter occupied.

It was, at least, more than what he had been doing. As it stands now, he's bored. Lonely and bored and feeling utterly useless, and with no end in sight. He's had to take up new hobbies to fill his days. Knitting had been a disaster.

So had baking.

But it was better than doing nothing, and while Jimmy made fun of him, it was preferable to the alternative. The alternative being that crushing feeling of uselessness and boredom spiraling into self-destruction.

A part of him was beginning to believe that the encounter with Dean had been his imagination. The only thing that really prevented that train of thought was the fact that he was unequivocally _alive_. He was standing in his brother's kitchen, leaning on the counter, and not on a rack, _the rack_ , in Hell. There was no hellfire or screams, no pain or the stinging cut of the blade through his very soul. There was only the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the pitter-patter of rain on the bay windows.

He had considered the possibility that it was all just a new way to torture him. At any moment his demonic tormentor would reappear, whisper a foul-breathed "You didn't think that was real, did you?" and return to the tattered canvas of Castiel's skin.

The first time his brother had wrapped his arms around him was enough to push that thought completely away; he knew his brother, knew his smell and his grip, and he knew without a doubt that it was no hallucination. He was alive, and his tormentor was still deep in the Pit.

"How're you holding up?" Jimmy's voice sounded over the rainfall outside, and Cas glanced over to him, shrugging as he turned to face his brother and leaned against the counter.

"I'm... restless. They bring me back, tell me they have plans for me, and now... nothing," he sighed, one hand going to rest on the counter behind him and the other sliding into his pants pocket. "I'm tired of waiting around."

Jimmy crossed the kitchen, his steps soft on the tile. He hopped up on the countertop next to his brother, bumping his arm against Castiel's shoulder once he was situated. "Way I see it, no news is good news, right?"

"You were the one who seemed so intent on making contact with my rescuer; I was fine with just accepting my good luck." Cas's gaze fell on his brother, who simply huffed out a small laugh before he continued, "I would think you'd be more interested in news than that."

The other man made a noncommittal sound in his throat, "To be honest, I just wanted to know who to mail the Christmas card to."

Castiel chuckled, finally returning the shoulder bump, "Of course."

"Besides," Jimmy added, "He knocked me out. I'm not entirely convinced that the next time one of the angels comes to call I won't find myself unconscious on my living room floor."

"Don't worry, that won't happen."

"What makes you so sure, Cas?"

Castiel smiled at his brother, the expression bordering on cheeky, "I'd move you to the couch."

The younger twin shoved Castiel away with a snort, "Thanks, asshole. I really appreciate that."

The smile remained for a long moment, though not as long as the silence that followed. The rain had picked up outside, and Castiel found himself watching its descent while Jimmy watched him. Cas knew exactly what he saw - three days worth of stubble and the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes from his largely sleepless nights - and for a moment he let himself felt bad for worrying him. Jimmy wasn't one to idly fret except where his family was concerned, and Cas worried that his restlessness was causing him undue stress.

His voice, when Cas next spoke, was subdued, "You don't need to worry about me, Jimmy."

Jimmy blinked at him, slow, and shook his head. His response was simple, "Somebody has to."

Castiel would have been lying if he said that he hadn’t expected his brother to say something like that. He had, however, expected Jimmy to drag it out a bit more, not to spell it out so simply, and for a moment he didn't know how to respond. All through their childhoods it hadn't been uncommon for Castiel to get into trouble for his brother, whether because of unruly bullies or out-past-curfew dates with girls whose families weren't thrilled with their precious baby girl being caught with "that Novak boy." There was more than one occasion where Castiel had pretended to be Jimmy to one parent or another so his brother could sneak off with their daughter for a bit of fun.

It was even more frequent that he took the beatings - and doled out the retaliatory punches - meant for the more rambunctious of the two of them, simply because for so many years they hadn't made any effort to actually _look_ any different from one another and Jimmy had made no effort to keep his mouth shut.

There had been so many years of Jimmy _not_ openly worrying about him - only in the worst of situations - that such a simple response said much more than what the words themselves had.

Jimmy was more affected by Castiel’s time in Hell than he let on, and it was with sudden clarity that Cas understood his moping about feeling useless was damn selfish. He was so focused on not being contacted again by the angels that he had failed to realise that he was back with his  _family_ , with his niece and his sister-in-law, and, god, above all, with his brother. The brother he had taken punches for, and detentions, who had driven 18 hours straight to come pick Cas up at a hospital, and the brother he had literally gone to Hell and back for, and all he was doing was pushing them away with his own self-pity party. They were the only family he had left.

"Yeah," Cas finally said, dumbly, but he had no doubt that Jimmy understood what was left unsaid.

The other man clapped his hands together, the sudden sound startling in the near-silence of the kitchen. "So, anyway. Ames and Claire are having a mother-daughter bonding night, since apparently I spend more time with our child than she does, so I was thinking: nachos and Harry Potter marathon?"

Castiel smiled wide, "Definitely."


End file.
